Acting on Instinct
by Star7
Summary: An ABO-verse, uke-Kitsune nasty little smutty thing. Shohoku x Rukawa. Mostly MITRU. Bit of Hanaru and MiyagiRu(!). YEAH, I know. M-rated because *whistles and fans self* yeah. There's plot! So please enjoy... the... plot. Cough. Anyway. Happy Birthday Kaede 2020!


**Notes: **This is an ABO-verse fic. I haven't read one in Slamdunk before. If ABO-verse is totally new to you, I'll quickly explain a little bit so this fic makes more sense.

Basically, ABO (Alpha-Beta-Omega) is a fanfiction universe where characters have both a primary (male-female) and a secondary (alpha-beta-omega) gender. There's a bunch of tropes that go with this, almost all of which I've shoved into this one fic LOL! So even if you don't already know, by the time you get to the end of this, you'll pretty much have the idea. But all you really need to know is that the alphas are the "power" gender, omegas are "submissive" and the whole thing samples quite heavily from a wolf-like pack culture thing.

To be honest, I don't really like the theory behind ABO-verse because it strikes me as being anti-feminist and anti-gay and I'm pretty much 100%-pro-both-those-things soooooo, yeah. I have a problem. HOWEVER, ABO in practise is fucking amazing when it comes to writing smut-smut-smut. And that's what this fic is. Smut. So ABO is totally a guilty pleasure for me.

Honestly I just wanted to try and write some porn. So I did. This is a first for me as I don't usually write this kind of heavy explicit sex stuff. True to form I couldn't help but include a ton of unnecessary world-building SO I guess this is porn WITH plot? Something like that.

Also, this one goes out to all the MitRu fans. I don't really get this pairing. But I can roll with it. So here it is. For you.

* * *

**Acting on Instinct  
****or, The Secret Inner World of Rukawa Kaede**

**Warnings: **explicit! PwP, dubious consent

Rukawa Kaede is an omega. But a surprising number of people don't seem to know that. Because everyone knows that omegas don't play sport, but Rukawa does. Everyone knows that the ace of the basketball team must be an alpha, but Rukawa is not.

He's never actively sought to hide it, and yet it's somehow assumed of him. He would never hold up to any sort of real scrutiny, of course. But it seems a combination of soaking day in and day out in his all-alpha teammates' scents - musky, powerful, and strong even by most alpha standards - has scented his own omega fragrance into a mere background hue. He is sure to stay away from school during the few days of his twice-a-year heat, which most people assume to be a rut. He takes suppressors the rest of the time, which only serve to dilute his fragrance further.

Of course his teammates know. And anyone who knows him more than simply by sight and reputation. They know what he is, but they don't care. Because he's tall. And good at the sport. And hardly a typical omega presentation. They can barely smell anything, what with the suppressors. Besides, it just so happens that every member of the school basketball team is an alpha and that has been the case for the entire history of the school.

So if Rukawa were to say he was a beta, or indeed an alpha, likely there aren't many in the school who would doubt it. As it is, he doesn't say anything, so most people tend to simply… assume.

And that's fine.

"Rebound!"

He drags his attention back to the court as Sakuragi leaps up and then immediately blasts the ball down the court, aiming for the hands of the single remaining third year - Mitsui Hisashi - who somehow can't quite get his fingers on the energetic throw.

"Too hard, dumbass!"

Rukawa's long thin legs carry him rapidly towards the loose ball, spying the opportunity for a quick turn around. Myagi is already running up behind, lifting his hands, calling for it. Rukawa's eyes flash across the court, his teammates, the opposition, rapidly calculating which one – which way – which…

He puts it against his chest for a mere second before sending it on its way once again, slapping it hard into Myagi's waiting palms where the short alpha turns neatly on a penny to begin the counter attack, rocketing back towards the other net…

...only to see it a lightning quick hand snake out of no where and knock the ball out of its neat dribble.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Gotta wake up early to beat this tensai!" Sakuragi chortles.

"Hanamichi!" the opposing team cheer him excitedly as the ball goes all the way back to Mitsui who lifts it accurately just outside the three-point line, just a half pace away from Rukawa's desperate reach as he runs in a last ditch attempt to block. Too late.

The whistle blows for the end of the half.

No one says that it's because Rukawa is an omega that he couldn't stop Mitsui's shot. That his speed isn't fast enough. That he isn't strong enough. None of them think that way. All of them know his strengths. All of them believe that any weaknesses he has – and he does have many – can be worked on and eliminated through practise, through training. No one ever suggests that it might be his biology which is his disadvantage. Weighing him down. No one thinks like that about him. Because even though he's an omega – and they all think that they know that he is an omega – somehow none of them really do _know_ it at all.

Mitsui comes to walk beside him as they trail off the court. He gives a small sniff as they come together. Minute. Almost unnoticeable. As if he has a cold or is simply clearing his nose, but it gives Rukawa a mental shake to remember that his heat is due in the next few days. He's been weaning off the suppressors in expectation of it. Tomorrow will likely be his last day at school for a while. He wonders if Mitsui can tell, but as usual, Mitsui does not comment on that at all.

"What do you think about adding in an extra run after training? Maybe once a week?"

Mitsui has recently taken to using Rukawa as a sounding board for ideas before pitching his thoughts to the in-coming captain Myagi. Rukawa isn't sure why Mitsui needs this little confidence check each time, but he doesn't particularly mind.

So Rukawa gives a shrug.

"For stamina," Mitsui adds.

"Yeah, I guess," Rukawa replies vaguely and uses a towel to wipe the back of his neck. Now that he's alert to it, he thinks he's sweating a little more than usual. Perhaps his scent is a little stronger for it. Probably he should shower or something.

Again, he wonders if Mitsui has noticed, but Mitsui says nothing about it.

"Not everyone needs it I guess but uh - some of the bench warmers are a bit lacking..." Mitsui continues, still thinking about his idea. He shrugs. "Anyway, do you want to come with me to work out a good route tomorrow?"

Rukawa intends to agree. For a short moment, however, he finds himself a little overwhelmed. Not by the idea of stamina training or going for a run with Mitsui, but by the scent that radiates from his senior. The third-year has become a quiet, staple force in their team. Something reliable. Something comfortable. And something about his scent always makes Rukawa feel a little... odd. It's sour and sharp and warm, like smoke or new shoes. Rukawa likes it. But he wouldn't ever say as much. Even thinking about it makes him a little embarrassed.

Instead he says, "I'll probably not be in school most of this week."

And Mitsui replies. "Oh, is it your rut?"

And then Rukawa pauses, uncertain. Wondering if he ought to just nod and agree or whether it ought to… hurt. As it does. Just a little.

Still, Mitsui seems to realise his mistake almost at once, and he waves a hand as if he can disperse his own words like they were themselves a scent. "I mean… whatever it is."

He's calm, and easy. It was an honest mistake. Not a jab. Not calculated to hurt. It didn't really mean anything. Just that Rukawa could so easily pass for an alpha – because he's good at basketball, because he plays sports, because he's tall, and strong, and because the suppressors make it hard to notice. Or because Mitsui never did care, or see him, as anything else.

And that's fine.

"Right."

"Maybe next week then?"

"Okay."

Mitsui lays a quick hand on his shoulder. It's heavy and warm and friendly. "Good game."

Rukawa doesn't respond, his throat a little dry. He brings his water bottle to his lips and drains it quickly.

* * *

He bumps into Sakuragi as he enters the communal changing rooms.

At the beginning of the year he used to dress and shower alone in a separate room for omegas, but he quickly found out that he missed out on important team talk, suggestions, and discussions that took place while they were all changing. So he soon quietly relocated himself into the alpha's changing room and, true to form, no one questioned this. He rather suspected that if he had sought permission, he would rapidly have been denied. As it is, though, the coaching staff are all willing to turn a blind eye. It probably never even occurred to the team members to comment.

He is still male, after all. All his body parts are nothing they haven't seen before. There is no real reason to change somewhere else, apart from the scents. But he is pretty much immune to all that now. He can let the alphas' scents wash over him, strong and heady, and although at first he tended to go a little delirious if he stayed there too long, nowadays he rarely even notices.

But he knows them all individually.

Myagi, Sakuragi, Yasuda, Kakuta, Shiozaki, Kuwata, and Mitsui of course.

He can identify each of them by scent alone. All unique. All familiar. All a source of safety for him. These alphas with whom he spends the majority of his hours and the majority of his days.

Sakuragi grins excitedly at him, shirtless, his hair damp from the shower, his broad chest glistening with beads of water.

"Rukawa! Did you hear? Did you hear?"

Rukawa enters silently. The two of them seem to be alone temporarily. Some distant part of his mind registers the potential danger.

If his mother could see him now she would doubtless give him an earful about what it means to be a vulnerable omega in the presence of a powerful alpha like this one.

What, she would rail at him, if Sakuragi were to overpower him? What if he is rutting, or smells his gathering slick? Does Rukawa have any idea, she would ask, what happens to little bitches who find themselves at the mercy of base alpha instincts?

But Rukawa finds it easy to ignore the little warning voice. He has done this a hundred times before, been here a hundred times before. He _knows_ Sakuragi.

"What?" he mumbles dismissively.

"I'm going on a date!"

Rukawa takes in the sight of the overexcited alpha and decides this information is not worthy of a response.

Sakuragi continues on anyway. "She's an omega girl. From class three. She's just… divine. You know? _Divine_. She smells..." he makes an exaggerated breathing motion as if imagining her there right then, "...like _angels_," he concludes enthusiastically.

Rukawa only shrugs. He does not question what Sakuragi imagines angels are supposed to smell like.

"Her hair..." Sakuragi reaches forward into the empty air and begins stroking an invisible head. "It's so soft… _soft!" _The final word comes out as an overwhelmed and disbelieving little squeak that makes Rukawa roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he mutters.

He drifts past Sakuragi, aiming for the shower cubicles. He notices Sakuragi give a small sniff of the air as he passes. He ignores it, but then Sakuragi speaks up.

"Hey... Rukawa?"

He pauses and glances back at the alpha. The way Sakuragi is looking at him makes him suddenly feel a little self-conscious. The tilt of his head. Something deep in his eyes. Rukawa's breath catches in his throat. Has Sakuragi noticed? His heat is really only a couple of days away. Perhaps he ought to be more careful. If the scent gets too strong he might accidentally affect the alphas in the team. Sakuragi is certainly sniffing the air in curiosity. For a moment Rukawa's heartbeat speeds up nervously.

"You okay? You smell kinda-" Sakuragi sniffs at him again and then wrinkles his nose in distaste, "-kinda _weird_."

"Oh..." Rukawa looks down at himself. _Weird?_ "I'm sweaty. I'm gonna shower, so..." he trails off.

"Yeah-" Sakuragi shakes his head as if to clear it of the odd scent. "Yeah I guess you'd better do that."

Rukawa goes into the shower trying hard not to be annoyed. It shouldn't bother him if Sakuragi doesn't think his pre-heat smells like angels. In fact, it's for the best.

* * *

By the time he gets out of the shower, Sakuragi is gone, and Mitsui and Myagi are there instead.

"It's because you don't save yourself anything for the last five minutes," Myagi is accusing his taller teammate. "You need to save some energy for the last push!"

Mitsui looks angry, the sharpness of his scent intensifying noticeably in the room, carried to Rukawa's nose on the hot shower steam.

"What?" Mitsui hisses back at Myagi, hot indignation filling his words. "Now you listen here, you little pipsqueak-"

Rukawa hesitates only a moment before absent-mindedly taking a seat, idly rolling his sweaty training gear into a ball to shove into his bag. He knows Mitsui's anger isn't serious. That Myagi's criticisms are meant with affection. This is merely the dynamic that they share these days. A little tense, as the senior male is awkwardly subordinated to the younger captain, on the basketball court at least. But Mitsui can hold his own, and Rukawa has rather come to admire the odd friendship they share. If he's honest with himself, he feels perhaps a little jealous of the way they can converse with one another so plainly. He half wonders what it just be like to share this rough camaraderie. Friendships between alphas. He doesn't have the opportunity to act in such a way anymore. Even Sakuragi - perhaps the closest thing he has to a rival - has backed off recently. Acting more friendly. The two of them becoming more cohesive. Perhaps it's instinctive. Rukawa glances down at himself. Though he hardly looks different from any of them, omega pheromones aren't ever completely suppressed by the medication. He supposes, on some subconscious level, they must all be a little nervous around him. Even if they don't know it.

They catch sight of him just sitting there, listening.

"Rukawa!" Myagi exclaims. "What are you _doing_?"

Rukawa is surprised to see the looks on their faces as they turn to see him. Startled embarrassment. Myagi immediately turns a deep shade of red. Mitsui stares at him in surprise.

Rukawa tilts his head, clueless as to the reason. The cause of their offence.

"Why- why are you sitting on the floor?" Myagi splutters, averting his eyes rapidly as if he'd just been caught looking at something obscene.

Rukawa's eyes widen in realisation and he looks down at himself. He knelt on the floor, he realises in cold surprise, rather than take a seat directly on the bench which is right by his shoulder. Astonished even with himself, he scrambles up to his feet.

He wasn't thinking, he realises. He was just doing what comes naturally to him. Whenever he is at home, his mother insists that he kneels on the floor as omegas are traditionally expected to do. But he has never before made the mistake of doing so here, at school, among his teammates. It must be his heat, he realises in unhappy surprise. Perhaps it is coming on faster than he thought. The sight and sound of the two alphas arguing loudly, the taste of Mitsui's angry scent coating his tongue, must have subconsciously triggered whatever part of his brain contains all his family's traditional indoctrination.

He scrunches up his nose, trying to think of a way to hide his mistake. "I was… I was just stretching out..." his hand drifts to his thighs and kneads the sore muscles demonstratively. He looks at the floor and tries to will away his blush through sheer determination, hoping they'll buy his excuse.

It isn't that kneeling is taboo, even if it is generally seen as pretty old fashioned outside of a very few highly traditional families. It just that he is… _Rukawa Kaede_. And these are his teammates. And the fact that he is an omega is so easy for them to forget. Something like this is weird to the point of being a little… uncomfortable. Showing a little piece of his submissive side.

He might as well have flounced up to school in a _skirt_.

They don't seem totally convinced by his excuse, but they don't argue, either. They look a little confused, as if the revelation that he really is an _omega_ and not just another alpha has struck them a little hard. They pack up and leave together. Mitsui throwing him a last curious look as they go.

Rukawa puts his hands on his bag, hauls it over his shoulder, and sighs.

* * *

He walks home alone. He only looks at his feet as he walks, thinking about the incident in the changing rooms and squirming a little with shame. He ought to have been more careful. And the _looks _on their _faces_. He groans internally. What a nightmare.

In the past he might have walked home with his teammates, but these days he rarely sees them outside of school. He knows better than to be seen walking together in public with any alpha who is not his bonded mate. It wouldn't be considered appropriate by his parents. Because while Rukawa might be rather flexible in his gender role at school, his parents are staunchly traditional at home. If they knew even half the things he got up to masquerading as an alpha – _not _that he does it on purpose - they'd surely pull him out of the team. Probably pull him out of the school. And that is the last thing he wants.

So he pushes his front door open alone and enters the hallway. He drops his bag, kicks off his shoes, and sees his father through the kitchen door.

"I'm back!" he calls out. His father is cooking dinner, and casts him a weak, uncertain smile.

He is a small man, with soft black hair and a gentle expression. He is a good foot shorter than Rukawa and his alpha mother who is a lawyer in the city. She works long hours and is rarely home, but her own alpha mother – Rukawa's grandma – lives with them and keeps a tight watch on the two male omegas, insisting on observance of all the traditional rules.

As such, Rukawa's first daily duty upon returning home is to present himself to her.

She always sits in the living room which she has taken over as her personal chamber. She spends her days watching daytime television, with an open bottle of wine at her side, and aggressively framed distance glasses perched above her sagging cheeks. She is wasting away, Rukawa notices, day by day. She is getting old, fast. Her hours can be counted in moments of irritation, annoyance, or downright rage. She was a successful sportswomen in her day. A national champion. Now she is stooped and bowed. Her joints are tired, her once powerful alpha frame is creaky and achy. Her eyes water angrily. The lines around her lips emphasise the downward motion of her frown.

She is continually frustrated by her failing body. But she remains proud as a lion, and vicious like a hawk.

Rukawa appears in the doorframe, already on his knees as required of him. He usually finds it easy to switch between the two conflicting personas of his life. The submissive omega at home, and just another one of the alphas at school. "I'm home, grandma," he announces, making sure to keep his voice soft and placating, his eyes respectfully lowered.

But almost at once the more powerful scent of a second alpha rushes over him in a mist. He looks up surprised to see that his grandmother is not alone in the room. Sitting near to her, sunk into the softness of the couch, is his mother. She wears vicious stilettos and a black power suit cut close and tight to outline the dramatic womanliness of her body. She is tall – with the shoes even taller – and can dominate any room effortlessly. Beside the older woman the contrast is striking. The fading old lion, and the one in its prime.

Rukawa's mother is swirling wine in a glass, tapping the sole of her shoe against the edge of the polished coffee table, her long legs crossed at the knee. She is a stunning woman, Rukawa knows. And she terrifies him.

"Kaede," her eyes move to him and Rukawa's own blue irises fix quickly on the floor as the weight of her presence seems to physically push him down. The urge to drop, to submit, surges through him. He struggles against it, but it is hard to resist.

"Mother," he manages to greet her.

She considers his school tracksuit with distaste. "Put something more suitable on," she instructs him. "Then come here and serve us. Call your father here too. I have something important to discuss with you."

"Yes..." he agrees quickly, and shuffles backwards on his knees out of the room to the relative safety of the hallway. Once away from the overwhelming alpha stench of the living room, he pants in the air to calm himself down. Some of the members of the team, he knows very well, are powerful alphas too. Sakuragi, he thinks of first. But the others too. He is mostly immune to them, but they are boys – mere children - compared to the intensity of his mother.

For a brief moment he wonders whether, in the near future, his teammates will have the power to send him to his knees quite like that. Whether just the look in their eyes or the displeasure in their voices will be enough to send Rukawa dribbling or urinating in submission.

The thought is mortifying.

He makes a quick run upstairs to change into a traditional omega robe of the kind his mother prefers - silken and light, with long elegant sleeves and loose around his legs, held closed with delicate bows. He takes a moment to look in the mirror. He doesn't mind omega dress particularly, though he spends more time in tracksuits and sweats. It is very elegant, he notes. The collar low at his neck, revealing the pale smoothness of his unmarked throat. The simple cut of the silk emphasising the leanness of his body. The length of his fingers. He looks so different from his usual school sportswear. He half wonders what his teammates would say if they could see him like this. He deflates a little. Who is he kidding? They'd probably laugh themselves into fits.

He descends to the kitchen, wondering what could be so important that his mother would return early from work to talk to him.

He returns soon to the living room with his father and the tea tray. The two omegas kneel on the floor by the table and serve the tea up to the alphas. It is another tradition. Rukawa knows full well that both his mother and grandmother would prefer the wine over the tea. Decorum dictates, however, that the omegas serve. Holding a wine bottle does not reflect the delicate omega sensitivity that pouring fragranced tea into china cups does. Neither of the omega men are permitted to touch alcohol. It would be uncouth. So they drink tea.

His mother takes a sip of the boiling hot liquid and sets the cup down.

"Your father and I have decided," she says unexpectedly, "that you should enter a mating contract."

Rukawa remains silent for a moment, digesting this - his mother's big announcement. He very slowly sets the tea pot down and sits back on his heels. For a moment he doesn't know what to say. He steals a glance at his father from the corner of his eye only to see the man looking as blind-sided as he feels. Clearly his mother's interpretation of "your father and I" is in fact merely "I".

"I… haven't finished school yet..." he manages to respond, keeping his eyes low, retaining his calm. They'd agreed at the start of high school that he could remain at a mixed school, and remain on the basketball team, until he'd graduated. After that he'd fully expected they would demand that he be mated - that is just how his family is. But this? Now?

"All the more reason," his grandmother blurts out, lifting a finger and pointing it at him. "An unmated omega around all those prime young alphas all day? You're a disaster waiting to happen!"

"But I'm..." he shakes his head slightly, nervous of contradicting them outright, knowing he'll be punished for it. He has to argue his way out of this one without making it look like he is arguing with them.

"Are you a slut?" his mother demands with a disgusted sneer. "Is that what you want to be? Do you enjoy having those alphas sniffing at your slick? I can smell you from here!"

Rukawa lifts his eyes, confused. "That isn't…"

"Filthy!" his grandmother lets out a screech. "Shameful!"

Rukawa bites back his indignation. They aren't to be argued with. It won't work. He has to be cleverer than that. He has to think of… some… some _way_... to make them understand. Things are _different_ now from when his parents were young. Society has changed. Suppressors are readily available. Alphas are not just slaves to their instincts. Omegas are not just dangerous temptations to pull unwary alphas into a life of lust and depravity. They are all just… people. And mixed schools like his are proof that alpha and omega can coexist as peers, perhaps even as equals, without heralding the collapse of society.

It is now possible to live as an omega without the necessity of an alpha mate. Omegas can hold jobs. Omegas can succeed in school and in society on their own terms, and not just as a pretty fuck toy hanging on the arm of some powerful alpha mogul. The suppressors keep them safe. It isn't necessary to be scented, or claimed, by an alpha mate in order to keep other dangerous alphas at bay.

Not being mated isn't synonymous with asking to be raped.

He spends almost every day sweating and showering and training with his alpha teammates. And he's never once felt unsafe. None of them have ever tried anything with him. None of them show the least bit of interest in him.

Compared to his parent's time in which strict segregation and early mating was the only way to keep an omega safe, things are different now.

Except some things that don't change. Such as the potency of his mother's scent drifting in his nose, curling around his mind, bending him to her will, forcing him to submit with a mere flash of her hormones. Society has changed, he knows. He just isn't sure about biology.

He hasn't answered her, and she is getting impatient. She is the alpha, the decision-maker. He the lowly omega who bows his head and accepts. He can't think of anything to say. Her mere presence seems to render him mute.

"You'll be offered in a mating trial," she informs him crisply.

He gasps and this time really does look up into her face. "What...?" he begins to protest, but under her stare, his eyes begin to water. An inconvenient omega reaction. He struggles to form a sentence. "Not… that."

"It is the best way to assess your compatibility with a potential mate," his grandmother barks at him. "It's traditional. I met your grandfather through a mating trial."

"Yes," his mother nods, "and that is how I met your father too."

Rukawa turns his unhappy eyes to his father beside him for confirmation, but the older male does not meet his gaze. His eyes are fixed determinedly on the ground, his head bowed before his alpha. He will not speak up on Rukawa's behalf. He never has.

"Then..." Rukawa manages to begin, clutching tightly at the few straws that he has. He knows he has no way to counter their decision. They give no weight to his thoughts, his feelings, his concerns, his reasoning. He is a doll to them. Something they can play with. A bird among cats, "...let me choose the alphas who will participate," he begs.

His mother tilts her head. "You may make applications," she agrees. "But I will decide who to approve." She holds up her hand with three long fingers, each tipped by a sharp red painted nail perfectly manicured. "Three alphas," she tells him. "More than that and there's a risk of... damage."

_Damage?_

Rukawa swallows anxiously. His eyes are drawn to the shape of her fingers. Three long, rounded probes. Each representing an alpha he will be forced into the company of.

"Your heat starts in two days," his mother informs him, as if he didn't already know. "I expect you to be ready."

In his mind, he is furious at the injustice of it.

In reality he bends down, putting his face to the floor. The scent of her overpowers him and any protest he might have made. He hates it and yet can't help feeling a little relieved that at least his submissive posture hides the humiliated tears that have sprung up in his eyes. He won't give her that satisfaction, at least.

* * *

Later, in his room, he agonises over what to do. Who on earth should he ask? That absolutely preposterous question: _Excuse me, but I'm an omega looking for a mate. Would you like to fuck me?_

He curls his hands into angry fists.

The only people that comes to his mind are... his teammates. What other alphas does he know? Three, his mother had said. He counts them off uncertainly on his hand. Myagi? That should be okay. Sakuragi? He hesitates. His mind curls around to... Mitsui? He winces visibly.

How can he possibly ask them? Aren't they the _last_ people he wants to be there? To see him humiliated?

He twists his hands together.

On the other hand, if he doesn't come up with _something_ – some kind of _plan -_ he'll end up in a mating contract. He'll be bound to some alpha he doesn't know. Forced to share a marriage bed with a stranger. Perhaps forbidden to play basketball, or even pulled out of school, at the whim of his alpha. He knows full well that whatever his alpha decides, he will be forced to obey. It would be the end of any dreams he has of being independent. Of being the first omega to make the national basketball team. Of being anything other than a pair of legs and an ass to fuck.

Is his pride really worth giving up on his dreams?

He bites his lip and tries to reconcile himself to the fact that the two halves of his life that he has managed to keep separate for so long might be about to collide in the most disastrous possible way.

* * *

That is how he comes to be sitting in the changing rooms, facing his three teammates, and asking them the hardest and strangest thing he's ever asked anyone before in his life.

"My family want me to participate in a mating trial," he manages to tell them.

They all look at him, suitably scandalised.

Sakuragi, Myagi, and Mitsui. Three alphas. His fate.

"Are you serious?" Sakuragi blurts out in surprise.

"That's barbaric," Myagi exclaims, appalled.

Mitsui is silent, watching him with uncertain eyes.

"That's to form a mating contract, right?" Sakuragi demands curiously. "You might get hitched! Do you really wanna find a mate or something, Rukawa? Who's the omega?"

There is an awkward silence.

Rukawa manages to glare at him in annoyance.

"Hanamichi," Mitsui's voice is quiet, taking charge of the sudden moment of awkwardness, "_Rukawa_ is the omega."

Sakuragi flushes red. "Oh!" he squeaks. "_Oooh_-" he looks hugely uncomfortable. "Oh…. no. I… I always… seem to... forget."

Rukawa gives a familiar shrug, takes a breath and lifts his eyes to consider them each in turn. "I thought maybe… what if… you guys… were the alphas?"

The three of them stare back at him, momentarily dumbstruck.

"You… you… you want us to _mate _with you, Rukawa?" Myagi demands in astonishment.

Rukawa quickly shakes his head emphatically. "_No_! I don't want _anyone_ to mate with me. That's why I'm asking you guys. You're... used to me. You scent me all the time. What if we get through the trial without… anything happening?"

Sakuragi puts his fingers to his chin. "What does a mating trial involve anyway?"

Rukawa presses his palms flat against the top of his thighs, feeling unnaturally hot. It's embarrassing even to talk about. "It's twenty four hours," he forces himself to explain, "during my heat. We just have to stay in a room together, I think. Traditionally we would – you know – mate. Then the alpha that is most compatible would form a mating contract afterwards. But obviously we... don't have to do that."

"What do you mean, _compatible_?" Myagi asks him.

"I, uhm..." Rukawa can't seem to help flushing red, looking down at his shoes. He knows his teammates will think he is acting strangely. They've never seen this omega-like side to him. But he can't seem to help it. What with his heat around the corner and the topic under discussion. He can no sooner raise his eyes from the floor than lift rocks with his mind. "Actually I'm... not sure."

Sakuragi and Myagi fold their arms and look uncertain. Rukawa keeps his eyes on the floor.

"Twenty four hours..." Sakuragi muses. "Well, that's easy. I mean, we're with you all the time. We've just gotta keep our dicks in our pants for one day. How hard can it be?"

"Right," Myagi agrees readily. "Besides… you're… you're _Rukawa_. It's not like… like you're… you know..." he chews over his words, "...I mean, you're not like a _real omega_, you know?"

"Yeah. It's not like we actually _want _to mate with you," Sakuragi says contemptuously, wrinkling his nose. "Cos that would be so fucking weird."

They all look at Mitsui. He has not said anything in a while.

"Mittchi?" Sakuragi prods him in the side with his elbow. "What about you?"

"Oh..." Mitsui turns to look at them, coming out of whatever thoughts he was having. "Oh it's… it's traditional, right? My parents and grandparents met at a mating trial. It's not that unusual." He realises they are all staring at him. "What?"

'That wasn't the question," Myagi frowns at him.

"It wasn't?"

"You're from a traditional family too, Mittchi?"

"Yeah, pretty traditional. My grandparents are really strict but my parents aren't so much."

"Do you think you can go twenty four hours without accidentally fucking Rukawa?" Sakuragi demands, jabbing him in the chest with his index finger.

Mitsui flushes and stares back at him. He studiously avoids Rukawa's face. "Yes?"

Myagi's face breaks into a smile and he slaps Mitsui heartily on the shoulder, "Then good! Welcome to Team Alpha!"

"Your parents will have to apply on your behalf," Rukawa warns them.

"It's cool. My parents will be pretty stoked. They'd be keen for me to, you know, find a mate and uh, settle down quickly," Myagi admits.

"Yeah that definitely won't be a problem," Sakuragi agrees casually.

Mitsui slowly nods his head. "It's... pretty much expected of me," he acknowledges.

"I uhm..." Rukawa manages to glance up at each of them for a moment, "...thank you."

Myagi beams at him. "It'll be fine," he says brightly. "We'll come up with some kind of plan. You can just… stay on one side of the room, and we'll be on the other. We can make sure no one gets crazy, you know, with the pheromones or whatever floating around."

"Yeah, the team kind of needs you," Sakuragi points out. "Can't lose you to some random alpha who might not let you play anymore, am I right?"

Rukawa stares at him for a moment before nodding silently. For the first time since his mother sprung this ridiculous situation on him, he feels a little calmer. They _understand. _They know the stakes. What he might lose. And they're... _on his side_. They're _willing_ to _help_ him.

He feels a huge, gut-felt sense of relief.

It's only later, once Rukawa has left, that Mitsui turns to the others and asks, "Have you guys ever actually been around an omega in heat before?"

They both shake their heads.

"Don't you think we'll… you know… be affected?"

"Come on, it's _Rukawa_," Myagi repeats again. "Who would want to mate with _him_? I mean, he's not exactly what you fantasise about when you rut, is he?"

Mitsui decides not to answer that.

"He's just _not omega," _Myagi continues. _"_He's just like... one of us. How hard can it be?"

"I don't know-" Sakuragi muses thoughtfully. "There's alphas that go for his type, you know. I've seen it. In porn."

Myagi looks surprised. "What? _Why?_"

"Oh come _on_, you see it all the time..." Sakuragi crosses his arms and leans back, brazen in his honesty. "You know the type. They get some independent, modern omega. You know, making money, powerful job. Then they _discipline_ them. Break them down and put them back in their place, you know. Total humiliation. It's kinda hot."

Myagi pales. "Discipline?" he echoes. "You mean like _spanking_?"

"Yeah, sure. And other stuff too. Why not? They're _omega_, after all. They all like a firm hand, right? They all want to be _dominated _at the end of the day. It's natural."

"Yeah but - but - _Rukawa_!"

"That's what makes it good," Sakuragi insists. "Cos he'd hate it, right? He'd fight it. And that's the point. That's why it's hot."

"Oh, my god shut up!" Myagi lifts his hands to cover his ears. "You can't be serious."

Sakuragi shrugs carelessly. "I'm telling you, there's alphas that love that stuff."

Mitsui only shakes his head in vague disbelief.

Sure, Rukawa isn't exactly the _omega type_. Not the sort that Mitsui goes for anyway. He likes them shy. Obedient. He fantasises over their lowered eyes and eagerness to please. But nothing about Rukawa seems submissive. Mitsui is a little surprised to learn that his family is strict enough and traditional enough to even put him into a mating trial, because at school there's so little to suggest that he's not one of these new breed modern omegas bent on independence. He would never have pegged _Rukawa_ as coming from a traditionalist family. It's a little confusing.

He sighs to himself. Yeah, so what if Mitsui's found himself watching the back of his neck from time to time? Wondering what it would be like to pin him down and make him surrender. It's only an idling curiosity. Does it make his cock twitch a bit? Well maybe. Sometimes. But that's just because that's what alpha cocks _do_.

Has he thought about him in a rut? Sure. A few times, perhaps. But then again a rut sends him so far into blind horniness he'd fuck a cactus if given the chance. It doesn't _mean_ anything.

Still, Mitsui isn't totally sure that this whole trial thing will be quite as straightforward as the others seem to think.

* * *

Two days later, Rukawa's heart feels like it's going to pound right out of his chest. He hates this. Twice a year he lets his heat run its natural course free of suppressors. It's the standard doctor's instructions. Suppressing heats indefinitely can give rise to health issues, so allowing the body to go through its cycle twice a year is normal for most omegas. Usually he confines himself to his room, wrapped up in blankets for a few days, digging his fingers into his own ass in seek of some blessed relief. It's all-consuming. A horrible, out of control feeling, his mind giving way to the basic animal of his body. He hates going through it. It isn't the same as masturbating. The first few orgasms are usually okay. But after that it's just two days of soreness and agony. An itch that cannot be scratched. His fingers not going deep enough to give him any real relief. None of the alpha pheromones that - so he's heard - calm the heat. No. Just him and his fingers and more tissues than he can count as he grinds his sore swollen cock against the bed and cries with frustration.

Right now his heat is coming on strongly. Though his mind remains focused, his body feels so uncharacteristically weak he can barely remain upright. Just as well, then, that his only task is to kneel beside his mother and wait while the negotiations are made. Apparently his presence is an essential part of the pre-trial ritual. The hopeful alphas have some right to smell him, to ensure he really is in this unbelievably vulnerable state, to ensure that the trial they will enter is worth the effort. He doesn't catch everything that is said, too distracted by the horrible sensations stirring up in his body. But the scents... the scents he recognises well. Sakuragi. Myagi. Mitsui. Comforting. Familiar. The smell of _alpha_ tickles his nose temptingly. Saliva rising on his tongue.

They all come one by one before his mother together with their parents to formally request participation in the trial. And one by one his mother sizes them up as potential mates. She wants to know about the families they come from. Their prospects for the future. She measures their worth by the only two things that matter for an alpha - the strength to defend their omega, and the ability to make money. Whether they be kind or cruel, pessimistic or optimistic in their outlook, handsome or haggard, gentle or ferocious, whether they should _care_ for their omega or whether they should merely seek to _possess_ him, none of these things matter to her.

Still, just as the three alphas anticipated, there was no objection from their parents when it came to permission to join. Participating in a mating trial is still seen as rather a prestigious way to find a mate. Trials themselves are becoming rarer than they were in the past, spurred on by increasing omega-rights awareness, more and more omegas being given freer choices in finding their mates, and the general old-fashioned and somewhat barbaric reputation of a trial has reduced its modern relevance. Yet as trials increase in rarity, they also become increasingly exclusive. Only the most traditional and therefore most valuable omegas are typically still offered by trial.

And for an alpha to _win_ a trial, well. That would put a metaphorical feather in any family's hat.

Sakuragi is presented first, represented by a stooped and greying alpha who seems to be his grandfather. Not an old family nor a traditional one, yet Rukawa gets the distinct impression that his mother is impressed. And why not? Even without _good breeding_, Sakuragi is everything an alpha should be. Strong, powerful, confident. And besides, Sakuragi's scent is utterly divine at that moment. Rukawa's heat-addled body causes him to breathe in rapidly, the scent of Sakuragi filling his sinuses. His stomach twists. He tries to hold it back. Tries hard not to react. Yet between his cheeks, he feels his hole clench hard, and to his horror he feels a thick dribble of fragrant slick leak out of him. More than one pair of alpha eyes are drawn towards him at that moment, pulled in by the omega scent that immediately diffuses into the air.

Sakuragi had been smirking arrogantly at him, apparently highly amused to see Rukawa on his knees, his cheeks flushed, dressed in traditional feminine robes and being traded like a piece of meat. Confident in their little plan, Sakuragi had viewed the whole affair as if it were only a ridiculous pantomime.

But now he reacts at once, his whole body stiffening, his nostrils flaring wide, a look of sudden confusion racing across his face. He has smelt it, Rukawa knows. Rukawa shifts his weight, but it only causes a little more slick to drip down his skin. His eyes meet Sakuragi's and for the first time he sees uncertainty there. The way the apple in his throat bobs nervously. A little shimmer of sweat that appears on his brow. Rukawa stares at him in silence, his brow furrowing just a little.

Sakuragi's face is pale. But then he seems to steel himself, and even manages a small nod for Rukawa as his permission to participate is formally approved, as if in reassurance. Rukawa feels a mixture of relief and fierce anxiety.

The next to be presented is Mitsui. Reliable, smooth, competent Mitsui. He doesn't have the physical stature of Sakuragi but he does have what the other alpha lacks - _family_. Rukawa's mother laps up the name _Mitsui_ like a cat with cream. Doubtless she is aware of the other traditional families in the area and, for some reason that Rukawa doesn't know, the name Mitsui seems to impress her. The alpha who is Mitsui's father is dressed in a suit, well built and masculine. He is handsome like his son. A smooth talker he converses with Rukawa's mother easily, as if he is used to dealing with powerful people on a daily basis. He is calm and collected. And yet Rukawa's eyes are only on Mitsui himself. Dragging their way over him, soothing himself with that sour alpha scent he has always found most appealing. His body seems to quicken a little in anticipation. For no matter how much he tries to convince himself again and again that this heat - like all his other heats - will be painful and unfulfilled, his body has other ideas. _Alpha! _it thrums with excitement, seeming to be working itself up into a slick-dripping frenzy.

He imagines what is going to happen over the next twenty four hours. He hopes there will be somewhere he can go, hide, and be alone. Some quiet corner, perhaps. Just a little piece of privacy. Perhaps he can cover himself with a coat or shirt. He does not particularly want his teammates to see him masturbating and yet, he has already come to terms with the fact that it is pretty much inevitable. He cannot withstand the pain of the heat without _some_ relief. Even if it is just his fingers. Perhaps they'll steal glances at him over there, fingering himself in the corner. Perhaps they'll manage to ignore him completely. Myagi said he was going to bring along some _Uno_ cards. Perhaps that will keep them distracted.

He closes his eyes and breathes Mitsui's scent deeper. It fills him with warmth. With calmness. With the sense that he ought to surrender. Push his face to the floor and let this alpha take control of him. To care for him. Protect him. Hold him down and fuck him. Fulfil all of his needs. Put his teeth into Rukawa's neck, demand his submission, and eliminate the pain of this unbearable heat with the long smooth slide of his cock. Rukawa almost whines aloud with the desire, his temperature spiking for a moment, releasing another wave of powerful omega pheromones that waft into Mitsui's nose and blow his pupils open wide. It's only when his mother's long sharp nails dig aggressively into the back of his neck that Rukawa comes back to his senses abruptly. He realises that he was tipping forward, completely subconsciously, intent on offering his neck to Mitsui.

"Not yet," she hisses at him in admonition.

His eyes widen in astonishment at his own actions, knowing that his heat is by now pushing him well beyond the point of self-control. He dares not even lift his eyes to see if Mitsui noticed his embarrassing action or not.

Suffice to say, Mitsui receives his mother's approval.

Myagi is the last. Perhaps if he had been the first, the approval would have been slower coming, for he is not of particularly impressive stature for an alpha, and his family - while respectable - has a far more liberal bent. As it is, however, Rukawa's mother is already well satisfied by the two alphas first presented, and thus the last is in her eyes merely a spare. Just one more to complete the number. And as she does not wish to delay, she approves him with little fanfare.

Rukawa beside her drifts in a hazy world of heat and hormones, rolling Myagi's scent on his tongue, whimpering just a little, and not failing to notice the rapidly hardening length pressing thick against the front of Myagi's trousers. He licks his lips subconsciously.

* * *

Outside, while Myagi is obtaining his approval, Mitsui is speaking in a low voice to his father.

"You don't have to do this, you know," his father is telling him gently.

Mitsui only shrugs. "It's fine. I don't mind."

"I know your grandmother is keen, but really. Remember that this is a binding contract. If you succeed in the trial, you'll have to bond with that omega. Is that what you really want? You're still young."

Mitsui shrugs again, a little evasively. "It's fine." He licks his lips nervously, his thoughts drifting back to Rukawa. The flattering shape of the traditional robes that clung to his body, surprisingly feminine. The demure posture of his kneeling form. The way he'd looked shyly at Mitsui, his lowered eyes not quite disguising that lust. He has never seen Rukawa like that before. Never thought of him in those terms before. It is as if the whole world had tipped upside down. And the _possibilities_...

He recalls some of the things Sakuragi had said - a proud omega, discipline, _total humiliation_. Spanking? Mitsui had never thought himself one to be turned on by such things. But at this moment...

It grinds hard in his stomach. The contradiction. Rukawa as his proud and competent teammate, or Rukawa... as his submissive mate? He imagines what he could do to him. What he is _expected _to do to him. And who would blame him? It's only natural.

He feels unhappy and confused.

Mitsui has always felt some small affection for his omega teammate, perhaps even a little curiosity. But how could he never have noticed this _side_ of him before? And the _smell_ of him. Mitsui feels it in his gut, reaching right down into his depths and calling to him. His cock is already aching at the mere memory of it. _What the hell?_

"He's - he's - _something_ though, right?" he queries of his father, half hoping for a denial. Some sense. Hoping that his father will reprimand him and say that he is just imagining it. That he isn't meant to feel this strongly about someone as _un-omega _as Rukawa. That Rukawa isn't suitable. Isn't good _stock_. That he isn't meant to already be imagining how it will taste when he pushes his tongue into Rukawa's pulsing hole and drinks him straight down his throat.

His father runs a hair through his hair and sighs. "Yes. Yes. He's something, I'll give you that. From a good traditional family too. But remember that he's going into heat. There's not an alpha in the world that can resist an omega in heat. So just because he's irresistible to you now doesn't mean that you will feel the same years down the line. A bond is _permanent, _remember?"

Mitsui moves his feet a little anxiously. "I- I know. I guess-" he sighs.

"Listen," his father says seriously, "If he's really what you want then let me speak to his mother. She obviously favours you and I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. You don't need to go through a trial and nor does he. It's... damaging. I know it's traditional, but it's really not a practise I approve of."

Mitsui shakes his head. "No. No. It's okay. Kaede... wants it this way."

"Does he now?"

Mitsui nods, but inside he remains uncertain. He considers confessing the whole thing to his father. That the trial is a sham. That they - the three alphas - have already agreed to abstain, in the hope that this might buy Rukawa's independence for a little longer. On the other hand he worries what might go wrong. What if one of them simply cannot resist? What if _he _is the one who can't resist? What if they are found out? What if, even though they abstain, one of them is forced to bond with Rukawa anyway?

And lastly, to his own mortification he worries that if he does not take this chance to fight for his claim, perhaps the opportunity to take an omega like Rukawa Kaede as his mate will never come to him again.

"A trial isn't a good foundation for a bonding," his father is telling him. "It's a steep learning curve, and not everyone can climb it. It's not all about mindless biology, you know. What you need to build is trust. An _understanding_. A _bridge_ between your wolf and his. Unfortunately most trials end up quite the opposite of that. Too many omegas get physically forced into submitting. That's not how good relationships begin."

_Trust_.

Mitsui's eyes fix on the floor. Rukawa is _trusting_ the three of them, he recalls. He came to them for _help._ He _told_ them clearly that he didn't want anyone to mate with him. No matter what happens, Mitsui tries to convince himself, he must not be the one to betray him.

But it really doesn't seem like it will be easy.

Soon they are called back into the hall as things are ready to begin.

* * *

From this point on, Rukawa does not know what to expect. It wasn't explained to him in any detail. Just that they will be alone - him and his three potential mates - and should one be found compatible, the contract will be formed and he will become _property _of that alpha.

Of course he hopes that they will be left alone soon so that they can discuss what to do, make some arrangements, take some precautions. Give him time to warn his teammates of the crippling effect his heat is starting to have on him. Find himself a place to hide and then probably finger himself frantically until time runs out.

This is not, however, what happens at all.

First of all he is taken hold of by two of his alpha cousins and is brought to stand on a low podium in front of the three alphas and their families. He feels weak with the heat, and his legs tremble a little, so they have to hold him up. They hold his arms out to the side so he feels like a puppet on display, his body available for inspection. This would not be so bad except that his mother then approaches him with a silent and stern expression on her face, and begins to remove his robe. She unties the tiny bows that hold it shut, drawing it partially off his shoulders, letting it part.

"I-" he tries to move away, feeling surprised and confused. Nobody told him about this. "Wait - what are - I-"

He moves as if he intends to step down from the podium, but a firm grip on the back of his neck from the cousin on his left makes him slump, abruptly, weak at the knees. His neck is his weakness. Twin pressure points on either side of his spine, where an alpha's firm bite is enough to sink him five feet down into submissiveness. It is highly evolved biology, he has been taught at school. A clever way to protect an omega from harm during mating. A way to keep them still and pliant and loose while an alpha fucks into them. A way to minimise the damage.

Yes, it infuriates him just a little that he is so highly evolved to survive his own rape.

Though he can't fight physically, he still tries to snarl warningly at his mother – something he wouldn't dream of doing outside of heat - but she ignores him.

She drags away his robe, and shivers rise over his bare skin.

Being naked isn't something shameful, he tells himself angrily as the cool air touches him and he is forced to stand bare to their eyes. His teammates have seen him naked, after all, plenty of times. They share a changing room. Share _showers_. It's nothing odd.

And yet this is different. At school they are all equals. A _team_. But this is degrading. Being naked is nothing shameful. Yet being naked in a roomful of people who are fully clothed, he learns in this instance, is horribly dehumanising.

However Rukawa is torn between furious indignation and sense of relief as the cool air of the hall touches his over-heated skin. He's never been able to bear wearing clothes during his heat, and now is no different. His sensitive nipples in particular are relieved to be free of the constrictive rubbing of the silk robe. His head tilts back a little at the pleasant sensation, baring his throat. He swallows down the lewd little groan sticking on his lips. He knows so many eyes are upon him, he can feel them prickling over him like needles, but he tries not to care.

_Fuck you_, he decides. He can do nothing else. The firm, controlling grip on the back of his neck silences any protests. He tries to gurgle his anger, but isn't sure he succeeds.

They walk around him then, staring at him from every angle. His pale skin, rosebud nipples, perfect abs and pert ass. His small omega cock is hard and seeping before him, twitching only slightly as if in shyness. A quiet splatter sounds, and it's a short moment before Rukawa realises that a puddle of slick is forming on the floor between his feet. His arousal is literally dripping from him, running down his thighs. His embarrassment only seems to make it flow faster. He flushes red and notices that his teammates don't seem to know where to look. Sakuragi is staring at the floor, watching the slick puddle with an expression of vague horror. Myagi is only watching the wall nearby, avoiding looking at Rukawa's naked body at all. Only Mitsui is looking directly at him, his pupils blown, his lips parted. Their eyes meet. Electricity surges down Rukawa's spine, straight into his exposed cock, making it throb and twitch angrily. He can't hold back his groan.

The two voices in his head are shouting over one another. _Fuck you, fuck you! _he tries to maintain the thought, clinging on to his anger and indignation.

_Alpha, _another part of his mind is moaning and begging. _Please. Oh, please, please. _His nostrils flare and he realises that he can smell it - how much they want him. What they are imagining doing to him. He can smell it, and he can see it too right there, in Mitsui's heated eyes.

It gives him a little lurch of pleasure in his gut.

They finish their inspection of him and gather back at the front where Rukawa's mother holds up an object for the gathered alphas to see. Rukawa does not get a good look but it resembles a metal ring. She hands it over to the first - Sakuragi's grandfather - who tests it with his fingers as if to see if it will break. It is then passed on down the line and every alpha tries it, although Rukawa can tell from their uncertain expressions that his teammates do not know what it is supposed to be, or what exactly they are testing it for.

Too big for his finger. Too narrow for his wrist. He is genuinely curious when it is eventually returned to his mother and she approaches him with it in hand.

What on earth could she mean to do with-?

He lets out a reflexive gasp when her large cold hands seize his genitals and force the slightly too-tight ring over the head of his cock. His body tries to jerk away, but she continues, pushing it right down to the base where it sits tight and a little bit painful against his hair. She handles him dispassionately, without care. Like a doctor on his way to see another patient.

He can't help whimpering. It is digging in already, uncomfortable and frustrating. His heat always drives him relentlessly towards orgasm. He needs relief, desperately. Even when it hurts. But like this... like this... with mounting horror he realises that he won't be able to orgasm at all. He can't imagine getting through his heat without being able to- what if- oh, oh - _shit_. They can't do this to him. They can't-

He closes his eyes and hisses anxiously. Pain has begun to build in his gut. The hole between his cheeks is clenching and unclenching frantically now. The slick dribbles thicker and faster, filling the air with his pheromones. The urge to grind against something, to penetrate himself with something, multiplies ten fold when his only other source of relief is cut off by the ring.

He begins to pray that they will leave soon. Soon. Now. Immediately. This is simply torture. He needs to do something to relieve himself.

But they are not finished with him yet.

A bar is set between his ankles, fastened with leather straps, forcing his legs open. To his shame, the lewd position only makes the slick flow faster.

Then a wooden frame is set before him. It is just a thin horizontal bar supported by triangular legs at either end. He is quickly bent over it, the wooden bar pressing into his stomach, his head towards the floor. His wrists are bound to the legs of the frame, close to the ground, unbalancing him so that he is forced to lean all his weight onto it. Helpless and immobile, his ass high in the air, his legs held open, and his unhappy little cock weeping a slow dribble of nothing through the constricting ring. He can't touch himself. He can't fucking move. And the heat begins to roar through him like a furnace. The pain. The _pain_. He needs - he needs - oh, oh _fuck_. _Fuck!_

And the worst thing - surely the worst thing - is how much this mortifying situation is turning him on. He is _presenting_. Fucking _presenting_. His traitorous little hole is begging for it. And he wants it. He wants it _so badly._

And it is then that he begins to cry in frustration, realising what they have done to him. Knowing finally how this little game is meant to be played. Realising how appallingly he has already lost.

"Whichever of you," he hears his mother say solemnly to his three startled teammates, "makes him orgasm through that ring, shall have claim to him."

And then finally they are alone.

His teammates exchange astonished looks with one another, wondering what the hell they are supposed to do now. They really weren't prepared for... _this_.

They can quite clearly see the shimmering virginal hole between Rukawa's parted cheeks that twitches and moves and smells absolutely fucking divine. Right there for them. Laid out, beckoning, ready to be pierced.

They recognise the position Rukawa is bound in too. It is a full, classic, standing presentation. Forced, admittedly. But instinct and hormones don't really care for little details like that. They learned about it in their sex education classes, and have identified and labeled it during term exams, but none of them have ever seen anything but wobbly-drawn diagrams to explain it. Certainly nothing in their textbooks ever came close to describing _this_. And this _feeling_. The want. The _need_. They all feel it pulling them in with a force beyond reason. An omega, high in heat, presenting to them. It seems in that moment quite impossible to do anything else except claim him.

Rukawa is sniffing and snivelling quite miserably but they hardly notice that. They - all of them - can do nothing but stare. And stare. And swallow. And stare.

For a while, nothing happens.

Then Rukawa lets out a groan and they startle back to reality.

"Please, please- no," he whispers. "Please, I need, no, please, ah! Please- ugh, ah, ah, ah, oh, _ngh_!" he groans again, a shiver running through him, his little upside down face flushed red and full of tears. The words he speaks seem to oscillate between wanting them to keep away and begging them to step closer. The hypnotising omega scent lifts in another wave, and Sakuragi actually takes one dazed step forward before Mitsui grabs his arm and pulls him back.

"No," he growls. "We can't."

"_Uno_?" Myagi asks them in a harsh whisper. Sakuragi licks his lips anxiously.

Mitsui takes charge and herds them all to the furtherest possible corner of the room. None of them dare to approach Rukawa. Not to undo his binds or ask if he's okay or what he wants or thinks or needs. Staying away is already taxing them to the absolute limit of their endurance.

Myagi gets out the game cards but they don't really play. They move the cards around idly, not seeing them or focusing on anything but the sounds of Rukawa's breathing, his moans, and pleading that goes straight to their cocks.

"Please-" he begs from across the room, his words punctuated by desperate little sobs. "Alpha. Alpha. Please. I need you. Please. Alpha. Please." It doesn't sound like he's addressing _them_ in particular. Just anyone. He's been reduced to a twitchy little hole that needs a rod to fill it up.

"It fucking hurts," Myagi is the first to admit after a while, his hand pressing down against his erection, trying to push it back down into himself without any success whatsoever. "This is worse than a rut."

"Ten times worse than a rut," Sakuragi snarls back. The hormones are already making them aggressive. Mitsui hopes they won't end up fighting.

"He doesn't even know our names," Mitsui tries to reason with them, tries to convince them not to give in. "He's not himself. It's the heat talking."

"Yeah but, he's like, really in _heat_. He _needs_ cock," Sakuragi argues. "It's _biology_. I read an article once about an omega who _died _cos his heat was unfulfilled."

"That's ridiculous," Mitsui dismisses quickly.

"It's true! He was in a car accident and broke all his limbs. At the hospital they had him all in casts, but didn't realise his heat was coming on. The next morning when they found him, he was _dead_. It was the blood pressure or something."

"Ridiculous," Mitsui repeats, "you read so much shit." But he doesn't feel all that sure. _Can _an unfulfilled heat be dangerous? He can't remember. Certainly when he tries to imagine going through a rut without being able to touch himself it frightens him a bit. Could it kill him? Yeah, maybe. He half believes it. Blood pressure? That sounds kind of feasible.

His eyes go back to Rukawa. He is still there. Still presenting. Still waiting. Just dribbling slick and moaning and crying. He is so pathetic, it makes Mitsui's cock flush darkly. _God_, he wants it so badly. Wants to know what it feels like to claim him. Fuck him until he cries. Fuck him until he screams.

His mind supplies the necessary imagery and then - _oh_, _shit-_! - he lurches forward with a sudden groan as his mind, caught up in the smell and his own lewd imaginings, makes his pleasure peak. He slaps a hand down hard on his own cock, only to feel a damp liquid filling his pants. "Shit!" he growls, disbelief in his voice. He just _came_ in _anticipation_. "Shit!" How fucking strong are these fucking pheromones?

The others laugh at him. But he can see they're nervous. They're laughing but it's not fucking funny. They're both sporting agonisingly painful erections too. Just a little friction on the fabric of their pants, plus a little imagination helped along by Rukawa's unbelievably delicious scent, and the same could happen to them. Mitsui rolls his eyes at them.

They keep on not-playing in unhappy silence for another fifteen crappy minutes. The scent of hot omega twists in the air, catching in their noses, tempting them more and more as the time crawls by.

Mitsui glances at his watch. They're forty five minutes in. More than twenty three _hours_ remain. Some part of him is already resigned to the inevitable. He doesn't like it, but can't say he's exactly disappointed.

"I can't do this," Sakuragi says after a while. His eyes are closed and he's weaving a little where he sits. There's sweat dripping down the side of his face. "This is impossible."

"I have to fuck him," Myagi agrees, shuffling the Uno cards distractedly. "I have to. My cock is going to burst."

Mitsui feels too exhausted to argue. He feels it too. He can't honestly pretend that he doesn't feel exactly the same. Still, he has to at least say... _something_.

"A bond is permanent," he mumbles dazedly. Not his own words, just trying to cling on to something that his father said. "Trust," he adds. "We need... trust."

What the hell does that even mean?

He doesn't know. Yet somehow it's enough to keep him sitting where he is while the other two get to their feet.

"It'll be fine," Myagi is explaining. "We don't have to bond with him unless _he _comes. They didn't say anything about _us _coming."

"And that ring looks pretty tight," Sakuragi points out.

"Exactly."

* * *

Rukawa is so aroused he feels like he could pass out. His whole body is trembling. He is grateful for the restraints holding him in place. They anchor him, giving him support, safety. A feeling that this is where he is meant to be. The leather could be an alpha's firm handholds, pinning him down, bending him over and taking control of him.

He wants that. Needs it. More than anything. To feel like someone is there who knows what to do. To know that someone will master him.

He soothes himself with the aroused alpha scent that curls heady throughout the room. Lets it roll on his tongue and saturate his pores.

They will come for him, he tells himself. They will be there for him. It is what they are meant to do. They will hold him and relieve him of this unbearable heat. Fill him with their cocks and their cum and he will love every second of them tearing him apart.

He drinks in the scent of them, whimpering quietly. Whatever part of him didn't want this to happen is silent now in the face of his unassailable biology, the restraints on his limbs, and the shame of his presenting hole that only licks the flames higher and higher and feels so, so fucking _right_.

He really is, he reflects drunkenly, just a hole waiting to be filled. All those silly dreams and ambitions he used to pretend to have are pale in comparison to his reality. _Omega_. That's what he is. Nothing in his pretty little head but _alpha_ and _cock_. And right now he doesn't particularly care.

A warm hand on his flank startles him and he opens his eyes to see two pairs of shoes upside down in his vision.

He whines, a little saliva dribbling from his lips.

_Oh. Please, please, please._

He doesn't know who they are beyond the unmistakable scent of alpha. He doesn't care either. He has one need at the moment, and anyone with a cock could fulfil it. His fists clench in the bonds and he tries to move alluringly, arching back a little, offering his ass as much as he can.

"Me first," one alpha decides.

"Yeah. Okay," says the other.

There's no ceremony about it. No need for tease or foreplay. Rukawa feels the heavy head of a cock rubbing up between his cheeks, sliding bluntly through the slick, and he practically purrs in relief. He would have parted his legs further except the bar between his ankles won't give.

He bites his lip, his breath stuttering. He tries to rub back onto the length but he still can't move. He gives a groan of desperation.

The next moment he is rewarded as Myagi pushes his hips forward and bottoms out, his full length pushing heavy and full into Rukawa's body with one smooth slide.

It is like nothing Rukawa has ever felt. He sees stars behind his eyelids. It's _huge_. Nothing like the long twisting fingers that are all he's ever penetrated himself with. This is a cock. A real alpha cock. And it presses like perfection upon every tingling part of his body, stimulating him everywhere at once. His own small cock pulses furiously in response, but there's no time to savour the feeling because Myagi has already pulled out only to slam back in again harder, deeper, rougher. Then he does it again, then again.

"Oh-" he hears the alpha whisper somewhere above him. "Oh, oh, _oh, _this is fucking _amazing_."

Pleasure swirls through Rukawa's body at those words. All control seeps out of his muscles. His jaw slackens, and he isn't even aware of the salvia dribbling from his mouth to the floor. He can't resist. Can't even clench his muscles, or brace himself for the violence of the impact that crashes against him and into him again and again. He is loose and languid and helpless and fuck, fuck, fuck it is _good_.

His body is singing with pleasure, adjusting itself to make room for the thick length, welcoming it and purring around it, feeling it drag against his walls, winding him up with pleasure.

He can feel Myagi stabbing deep inside, sending electricity through his nerves right to his fingertips. Pleasure floods through Rukawa's brain. He is so fucking _big_. Rukawa tries to rock back into Myagi's pistoning hips, trying to pull him deeper, make the smacking slap of skin on skin harder, louder. But he can't manage to coordinate his body for more than a second before Myagi is already fucking the effort out of him.

He feels Myagi's hands on his hips, clenching fists, fingers digging possessively into his skin to give himself more pull, more leverage. Myagi bends his knees a little and thrusts _up, _changing the angle, reaching new spaces inside Rukawa's body and drawing more helpless moans from his limp lips.

Rukawa feels himself collapsing. His eyes roll helplessly, all his muscles spasming hard. His cock is flapping back and forth wildly with every punch of pleasure Myagi pistons into him. It is angry and red and seeping relentlessly but though the pleasure mounts and mounts he can't- he can't seem to-

His dazed eyes flicker upwards and watch it swinging hopelessly in frustration above him. He can see where the metal is physically digging in but he can't do anything to remove it or loosen it. His breath huffs out of him as he strains for release. It is then that he feels Myagi go still with a short sharp cry, and then Rukawa feels it. Ballooning up inside him. Stretching him wider and wider beyond what he would have thought possible.

_Knot, _he thinks in a blind rush of giddy excitement, wiggling his ass just a little to feel the way it rubs against his rim. But the pleasure soon turns to concern as the knot inflates further, and further. It stings now. Stretching him mercilessly, well beyond his experience, threatening to tear the delicate muscles, making him pant for a moment with wide-eyed anxiety. But his body is made for this, and slowly he feels his muscles giving way, relaxing, untwisting, letting Myagi's cock lock up inside him and begin to spurt hot cum as the long alpha orgasm rolls through Myagi's body and makes the smaller male groan.

Rukawa slumps weak and helpless as Myagi fills him up. The alpha hormones in the semen make him dopey and pliant. He hears someone speak - another alpha? - but Myagi's only response is a snap of his teeth and a growl, warning the others to keep away. His fingers dig hard into Rukawa's flesh. He bends forward and scrapes his teeth up Rukawa's back possessively, making Rukawa tremble with pleasure. He gives small, blunt little thrusts as he empties himself, and Rukawa can feel the way his own muscles ripple in response, milking every drop of alpha seed from the pulsing cock.

It's a good ten minutes before Myagi's knot deflates enough for him to pull loose.

Slick mixed with cum slides heavy down the inside of Rukawa's thighs. His heat is momentarily sated. The urge to sleep is coming over him. He wants to feel his alpha's teeth in his neck, claiming him, marking him. He wants to be weighted down, held, protected. Wants Myagi's scent to surround him.

But that comfort doesn't come. Myagi steps away, and he does not come back.

Something cold and frightened curls anxiously in Rukawa's gut, his instincts flaring in warning. That's not... that's not right. It's not... the way. It's not. It's...

Instead, after barely a minute, he feels two thick fingers force their way into his weeping hole, swirling around as if to collect the seed Myagi just shot in there and drag it back out. Again and again those strange fingers swirl inside him, clearing him out. Wasting his alpha's precious seed, letting it splatter on the ground.

Rukawa doesn't like that. He growls low, warning this unknown second alpha to keep away. Expecting Myagi to protect him.

But a fierce stinging slap comes out of nowhere, hard against his asscheek, making Rukawa's body jerk in surprise. A warning. A punishment. A fierce red mark blooms over his skin like a brand.

"My turn," the second alpha informs him, and his voice is heavy with lust.

The pleasant daze of sated-heat began to dissipate with the intruding fingers, and continues to do so with the denial of the soporific comfort of Myagi's seed. The painful flare of heat awakens in his body, and only the potent scent of this new alpha curls around Rukawa, bringing any relief. He drinks him in.

Rukawa feels his hole begin to twitch again in interest. An uncertain churning starts up in his stomach.

But instead of the penetration he expects, Sakuragi walks around him, to his front, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his face up. Rukawa comes face to face with an absolutely monstrous cock.

His jaw slackens in disbelief.

_That won't fit, _is his first thought. _There's no way that will fit in me._

It is dripping pre-cum, its sides already shiny and wet with it. Rukawa's eyes take in the thick veins that pulse around it. It looks unreal. An absolute monster. His mouth starts to water and he licks his lips.

Sakuragi shakes him roughly by the hair.

"Suck it," he demands.

Rukawa does as he is told, his wolf cowering before Sakuragi's. But with his lips parted as wide as they can go, he can still barely fit more than the head into his mouth. He runs his tongue over it uncertainly, not entirely sure what to do. Sakuragi is impatient, however, and still holding him by the hair, begins to thrust.

Rukawa's eyes go wide. This is beyond his experience. He's never done or imagined anything like this before. He can't cry out. Not with the huge cock gagging him and striking the back of his throat continuously. His jaw aches within moments. His fingers twitch and flex in the binds but he can't move or draw back. Can't stop this. Can't do anything but accept what Sakuragi is giving to him.

He squeezes his eyes closed in distress, relaxing his throat, widening, accepting more and more of Sakuragi's length. But he can't breathe. He tries to whimper. To plead. But he can do nothing.

His only comfort is the fact that Sakuragi's cock is so huge there's no way Rukawa can possibly break his jaw on his inflating knot.

Sakuragi's hands grip under his jaw tightly, pressing his cheeks in hard with his powerful fingers so that Rukawa can feel them between his own teeth. He splutters helplessly around the cock in his mouth.

"You like this, bitch?" Sakuragi wants to know. "You like me using you like this?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small and furious voice is enraged by the question. But Rukawa doesn't listen to it. All he can do is feel his eyes roll, his body shaking, and something in his stomach singing out, _Yes, yes, yes_.

His throat flexes compulsively, his moans vibrating up Sakuragi's dick. He wants to please his alpha. He wants to _be_ _good_. Wants to take him in deeper and deeper. Make him cum. Drink up his seed like cream.

The fist in his hair and the fingers dug into his jaw give him such pleasure he can't stand it. He can't move. He can't stop. He can't anything. He is helpless before this alpha. And good god how he fucking loves it.

His cock aches. Aches so much that it burns. He pushes and strains and tries to force the orgasm out but he just can't - can't -

He screws up in face with the effort of trying to force his release, but it's no good. Tears of frustration roll down his cheeks. Sakuragi sees his tears and pulls back. Before Rukawa can protest, Sakuragi has slapped him across the face with his engorged cock. Once, twice. Then he laughs with cold mockery at him.

"You stupid bitch. All you want is a cock in your ass, isn't it? That's all omegas are good for. Fucking. You want my cock? You want me to fuck you?"

Rukawa groans anxiously.

"Answer me!" Sakuragi demands.

"Yes-" Rukawa manages to whisper out of his sore, abused throat. "Please. _Please_."

"What do you want?"

"Your... cock."

"Where?"

"In my... ass."

Sakuragi gives him one last slap in the face, leaving a trial of saliva and pre-cum across his cheek. He lets out a dark laugh, and finally releases his hair. "Correct."

Rukawa's head sags down again in exhaustion.

Sakuragi gets to his feet and goes around to Rukawa's back once again.

He takes his time lining up, making sure to rub his cock head up and down through Rukawa's crack, sliding through the slick. He bumps heavily against Rukawa's hole a few times with a smirk, making sure that Rukawa is fully aware of his massive girth.

"You ready for this? I'll tear you open."

Rukawa can't seem to speak. His tongue is heavy in his mouth. His thoughts and senses hopelessly jumbled. He thinks about Sakuragi's size and a nervous feeling twists in his gut. _It won't fit_. But Sakuragi forces his way in anyway with a merciless thrust of his hips.

The feet of the frame literally leave the ground.

The sound in Rukawa's mouth is half moan and half scream.

Sakuragi is much, much larger than Myagi. Rukawa can feel his body protesting at the intrusion. The stretch, the feeling, has him whimpering and moaning mindlessly. Sakuragi reaches down to fist his hand in Rukawa's hair, dragging his head up and back until Rukawa is afraid his neck will snap. Then he _fucks_ him.

Rukawa gurgles nonsense as his world falls apart. Sakuragi is strong and powerful, his thrusts so deep, his cock so huge, Rukawa hardly knows where he ends and the cock that is filling him up begins. His stomach bulges outwards with every thrust, Sakuragi's cock stabbing deep enough to distend his belly. He feels sick, but his body takes it. His omega structures gradually slacken and adjust and make room for the intruding organ, rippling around Sakuragi's length, accepting and welcoming.

Sakuragi's eager grunts are rough in his ears. The smell of pleasured alpha twists Rukawa's mind into a flood of positivity. He wants to please Sakuragi. Wants every inch of himself to be filled with cock. Wants to prove himself. Stretch himself further. Be taken as far as possible, until he breaks.

But he can't control himself at all. His muscles have no strength. His body is useless as Sakuragi pounds relentlessly into him, pressing against all his organs, dominating the space in his body. He rubs aggressively against every crevice so that Rukawa has absolutely no where to hide. Nothing of his body that remains his own. Every part of him belongs to Sakuragi and it makes him cry helplessly in pleasure, straining against his bonds. He wants to part his legs further. He wants to arch his back. He wants to put a hand on his stomach and feel the point of Sakuragi's cock thudding against his palm from within. But the thick cock is pressing him so full and so heavy that he can feel his water slipping, first a little, and then more. Though he frantically tries to hold it in, the weight of Sakuragi's cock keeps forcing it out. A hot wet trickle down his shaking legs.

Sakuragi stops, feeling the unexpected wet warmth, and looks down at the sound of the liquid hitting the floor. Seeing the reality he laughs and laughs and laughs. "Look," he calls the attention of the others. "The little bitch is pissing himself."

Sakuragi doesn't wait or let up or step away from the mess. Delighted, he only curves his body forward, putting more weight onto Rukawa's back. At the same time he brings his large hand under Rukawa's body and presses up hard onto the place where his bladder is. Then he pistons his massive cock deeper into Rukawa's body, forcing the urine to keep flowing as if he is pumping it out. Rukawa cries piteously but can do nothing except allow himself to be humiliated, Sakuragi's laughter panting hot against his back.

Eventually he feels an uptick in Sakuragi's pace as the end approaches, and he begins to worry over the size of the knot that is going to force him open. But before that can happen, an ominous creak in the wood of the frame reaches his ears. Sakuragi, lost chasing his own pleasure, doesn't seem to notice it. But with every thrust, Rukawa becomes more aware of the fact that the frame is creaking, and the legs are lifting from the ground, and the whole thing is rocking quite precariously under the force of Sakuragi's thrusts. He is still helpless, tied to it, forced to put his full weight on it, so that he shrieks when the wooden post beneath his stomach gives way under Sakuragi's relentless pounding, and he finds himself falling to his knees on the floor.

Sakuragi does not stop for a moment, not even to shove away the remnants of the shattered wooden frame, his huge arms engulfing Rukawa's waist, gripping his body tightly, maintaining their contact. He speeds up as the added leverage gives him a better position to thrust.

Rukawa's ankles are still spread wide by the bar, and his wrists are still connected to two now separated pieces of wood. But he is more mobile than he has been over the last couple of hours since this all began. Still, he cannot move. Because Sakuragi pushes him down, holding him helpless, forcing his face to the floor where it rubs in his own urine. Rukawa kneels obediently under the aggressive alpha, his back arched to accept the relentless pounding of his cock, and allows himself to be fucked into dazed oblivion.

When Sakuragi's knot begins to inflate, Rukawa's eyes open in alarm. But he finds then that alpha knots are all of a relatively consistent size. Though his cock is vast, Sakuragi's knot is not in reality much bigger than Myagi's was. Enough to lock their bodies together. Enough to prevent Rukawa from moving away or separating their connection. He can feel Sakuragi's hot breath blowing against the back of his neck, a heavy panting, as he finally stills and lets his seed spill into Rukawa's body, a warning growl rumbling in his throat or an aggressive snap of his teeth behind Rukawa's head any time Rukawa tries to move or shift his weight. So Rukawa only lies still, gasping and shuddering as Sakuragi pumps him full.

As before, as soon as Sakuragi's alpha hormones flow into his body, Rukawa feels a profound sleepiness coming over him. He wants to rest. He wants his alpha. He tries to curl towards Sakuragi, twisting onto his back, wanting to hang onto him, to offer him his neck in submission. But Sakuragi only delivers a nasty finger flick to his still-seeping omega cock and snarls in dissatisfaction. He is obviously displeased and Rukawa is flooded with such anxiety he barely knows what to do. His instinct to please his alpha flares in him. He whines for him - his alpha, his _alpha_. Wanting his scent, wanting his comfort. He cannot move, pinned down by his own exhaustion. His instincts tell him that his alpha should be beside him. Protecting him. Ready to defend the seeds he has planted. But Sakuragi is already gone and Rukawa's body cannot understand why, once again, his alpha has left him alone. He feels cold and disaffected, vulnerable. Afraid. But he is exhausted too. And soon enough, he passes out.

* * *

When he wakes he finds that his heat-fever has already returned. The warmth is running high through his veins, telling him to respond, to roll over onto his hands and knees and present himself for taking to Sakuragi once again. But his alpha is still not there. He panics for a moment, trying to move, only to find that he is still restrained. He takes anxious, shuddering breathes and tests the restraints on his ankles. They calm him a little. His anchor. Something possessive in their touch.

Then he smells it.

A little sour. He parts his lips and lolls out his tongue to taste the air. It's there. Close. Something he remembers. Something safe.

He opens his eyes blearily to see Mitsui Hisashi standing over him, his arms folded across his chest.

* * *

Mitsui stands and watches Rukawa come around, scent the air, and notice his presence. He takes the omega in with a critical eye.

He is absolutely ruined.

Sprawled and naked. Fluid is everywhere, smeared over his skin, his face, his thighs. Slick, cum, and urine. He smells too much like alpha, which Mitsui finds he dislikes quite intensely. On the other hand, he also smells unbelievably good. But that hardly seems to be the point.

He looks at Rukawa's unhappy cock. The small thing has not softened. Driven still by the heat, it is erect and eager, but still constrained by the ring which, according to an angry Sakuragi, makes the trial quite impossible. Mitsui wonders about that. He isn't totally sure that any of them have figured out how to do this right.

He gives a sigh.

"We are idiots," he mutters to himself, "we have no fucking idea what we are doing."

He moves closer, squatting down and reaching out a gentle hand to stroke Rukawa's naked thigh softly.

He meets the omega's bleary eyes.

"Omega," he addresses him. Rukawa shifts a little and whines in response. As he moves, a fresh wave of slick dribbles out of him, and its delicious potency kicks Mitsui hard in the gut. He has to force himself to continue. "What is your name?"

An odd question. Or perhaps not. Mitsui has just watched his teammates cease to be humans and become animals. And even now, the omega doesn't seem to know the answer. He looks genuinely confused for a long while. Mitsui can practically see him working his way through the fog of the heat that addles him. Trying to find reason. Find sense. Find something other than _omega, _and _alpha_, and _cock, _and _cum_.

"Ru-kawa'" he answers finally. Uncertainly. He licks his lips. "Rukawa Kaede."

Mitsui gives a pleased hum. "And me? Do you know me?"

Rukawa scents the air again. The answer comes faster this time. "Mitsui," he murmurs. "Mitsui Hisashi."

"That's right," Mitsui confirms, he begins to carefully undo the restraints on Rukawa's arms and legs. Rukawa doesn't seem to approve of this, and he whines in quiet protest, but Mitsui only hushes him.

"It's all right. I'm here. You don't really like being tied up like this, do you?"

Rukawa nods dazedly. "I... do-" he protests.

Mitsui furrows his brow in confusion.

"Why? Doesn't it make you vulnerable? You're as good as helpless."

Rukawa shakes his head. "Feels safe," he refutes.

Mitsui is confused by that. He thinks about it for a while.

"Does it make you feel like an alpha is holding you?"

"Yes," Rukawa manages to slur at him.

Mitsui is taken a little aback. "I... see." He hadn't looked at it like that before.

"Please," Rukawa whispers quietly, closing his eyes. The word is meaningless. But Mitsui kind of gets it.

He runs his fingers gently over Rukawa's forearm. Then his cheek. Brushing tenderly into his hair. "How did I never see you for what you are?" he mumbles to himself. "How have I misunderstood you for so long?"

He closes his eyes. His father said that the trial was a steep learning curve. But - learning what? Learning how to give pleasure to an omega? Surely not. Nothing could be simpler than that. It is very obvious that pleasure comes easy to an omega in heat. If the trial was merely a matter of physical pleasure, then surely any alpha with a knot could succeed. No. The nature of the trial was never pleasure. It ways always... _compatibility_. But what does that mean?

Being an alpha doesn't mean only taking, demanding, dominating, Mitsui begins to consider, trying to work it out. Wanting to. If only for Rukawa's sake. He looks so pitiful, lying there weak and exhausted. This can't be how it is meant to go. This can't be all there is. He deserves more than this.

There is also... returning. Responsibility. Protection. An alpha may control their omega. But they must surrender to them too. For what alpha could ever act otherwise than in their omega's best interests? Alphas cannot harm their omegas, or hurt them, or subjugate them. They can never do anything but put their omega first. Existing primarily to serve their omega's needs, even before their own. Alphas may not make the same choices that an omega would, or even choices that their omegas _like_, and such is the necessity of _discipline_ and _control_. But that is the nature of the relationship. That is what one gives to the other, and what the other returns. And just as the omega surrenders to an alpha, the alpha surrenders back to them. There is meant to be… _balance_.

It occurs to him then that the trial is about finding his own nature, just as much as it is about finding Rukawa's. He squeezes his lips together in thought.

_Trust_, his father had said. The omega must trust the alpha wholly in order to submit. And so the alpha must pursue honesty between them, above all things. More than dominance, or control, or competency, or egotism. It is not about the _flesh_. It is about… _t__rust_.

"Do you know what I want?" Mitsui finally speaks up.

Rukawa only stares up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

"I want to fuck you," Mitsui says, directly to the point. "Do you want me to do that?"

Rukawa quickly nods his head. "Please," he agrees. "Yes, yes. Please." He is already moving, intending to roll over and present, but Mitsui holds him down with one hand on his shoulder, and Rukawa stills.

"Your name?" Mitsui asks him again.

"Rukawa Kaede."

"And mine?"

"Mitsui Hisashi," he says in an eager rush, apparently keen to get back on with the fucking that Mitsui mentioned before. A small whimper escapes his lips and he rubs his thighs together. He is, Mitsui reminds himself, still afflicted by his heat.

But Mitsui is not done talking to him. "You told me before that you didn't want anyone to mate with you. Why do you want me to do it now?"

Rukawa's eyes go wide as saucers. "I - I _do_ want it," he protests.

"So you say. What has changed? Is it just your heat?"

"No, I-" he hesitates.

"Then what? Why do you want my cock so badly?"

"Because I..." Rukawa's eyes are shining with something as he looks up at Mitsui. "...I want to lose. I have already… lost."

"Not yet you haven't," Mitsui points out, gesturing to the ring and the lack of orgasm. 'It seems pretty clear to me that you won't orgasm through that ring just because some alpha is fucking you. There must be something else. This isn't a trial of mere accident."

But Rukawa only shakes his head. "I want..." he gives a small hiccup. "I want you. I've been waiting... for you... to win."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Who am I?"

"Mitsui Hisashi."

Mitsui sucks in a breath.

Rukawa closes his eyes for a moment. "You'll... know how to… what to… do."

"Huh," Mitsui gives a disbelieving shrug. "Well. I will certainly do my best. If that's what you want. But a bond is permanent, you know?"

"I know."

"You weren't entirely honest when you asked the three of us to join this trial, were you?"

"No..."

"You didn't ever seriously expect that we could resist you. You knew we'd claim you. That this would happen."

Rukawa does not respond.

"So why did you ask _us_? Why would you want… one of _us_?"

"Because I..." his breath stutters a little. "...I want to play basketball."

Mitsui huffs quietly. "And you just _assume_ that I will let you play?"

Rukawa is silent.

"What if I forbid you from playing? Will you respect my decision?"

Rukawa looks up at him uncertainly for a moment. Then, very slowly, he nods.

Mitsui licks his lips. "Well then, you know how to ask nicely, don't you?"

Rukawa hesitates for a moment, confusion crossing his face as if he isn't sure what Mitsui is asking. Then he moves, getting up on his hands and knees and presenting to Mitsui. No bonds. No restraints. Only Rukawa's will.

"Good boy," Mitsui praises him and Rukawa keens softly. "Put your head down," Mitsui instructs, and Rukawa does as he is told. "Lift your ass a bit higher. I want to see it."

Rukawa follows Mitsui's instructions. Mitsui comes closer to stroke the naked skin of his back, wiping away a little of the mess from around his hole. Rukawa waits silently while Mitsui inspects him intimately, tolerating the run of Mitsui's fingers patiently, without flinching, even when Mitsui's hand drops down to fondle his small balls gently.

"This body will be mine," Mitsui finally announces warningly. "No other alpha will touch you ever again."

Rukawa nods.

"You will be obedient to me. And when you fail in that, I will discipline you, severely."

Rukawa nods again.

"My family is very traditional. You know what that means, don't you?"

When Rukawa doesn't answer right away, Mitsui elaborates. "You'll serve the alphas at home. You'll wear the robes I choose for you. You will kneel on the floor. You will eat last, and you will say little or nothing in front of anyone but me. You will make yourself available for me whenever I call for you. And I won't have any omega of mine running around masquerading as an alpha. You'll present yourself as an omega at school from this day on."

Rukawa nods.

"In return, you must be honest with me. I will never harm you, or hurt you, or judge you. I will listen to you and do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy. You must tell me what you want, what you think, what you need, so that I can fulfil my role to you."

He feels Rukawa stiffen uncertainly under his hand.

"What is it?" Mitsui asks him, feeling Rukawa's thigh trembling. "If you have a question, ask it."

"What about..." Rukawa swallows nervously. "I still want to play basketball..."

Mitsui gives a sigh.

"That decision is mine. But so long as you are my mate, everything I decide for you will always be in your best interests. Do you _trust_ me?"

Rukawa hesitates for a moment before nodding, lowering his head, and parting his knees temptingly. "Yes, alpha. I do."

Mitsui lets a smile cross his lips. He pulls down his fly, bringing out his straining erection. God, but this boy is so beautiful, he thinks to himself. How could he possibly be this lucky?

Mitsui moves in close behind him, savouring the moment, breathing in Rukawa's heat and feeling it wind up something tight inside of him. He wants to wait but he can't, he simply slides smoothly into his tight body and can't help the low groan that forces its way out from between his lips. Rukawa's heat wraps around him. How he can be so tight after Mitsui just watched Sakuragi almost split him in two, Mitsui doesn't know. His fingers run over his skin, adoring. But there's a howling in him that he simply can't ignore. So he soon digs his fingers into Rukawa's hips and starts to move, dragging the omega back onto his cock, admiring the way it sinks in right up flush to his stomach. Rukawa shudders and cries and groans under him, and Mitsui is driven onwards, floating on a wave of mindless heat and omega pheromones that make him want to thrash him into the floor. Scented slick drips from his balls as he continues, his fingers reaching out to catch the back of Rukawa's neck and force his head down. Rukawa's body immediately tightens up around him in response, aroused by the vulnerability of his position, his desire to be submissive to his alpha.

But Mitsui isn't satisfied just by this. After thoroughly warming himself through, filling Rukawa's angles until he feels the muscles slacken, he pulls out, to Rukawa's protest, only to flip him onto his back and pin him down by the shoulders. Rukawa looks up at him in surprise. They are eye to eye. It's not the classic position, and Rukawa is unsure, but Mitsui grips his chin and forces him to maintain their eye contact.

"I told you," he gasps, between breaths. "I want your honesty. I want to see how I make you feel. I want you to show me."

Everything feels far more intimate from this position. Now that they are face-to-face, human-to-human, and not merely fucking through their wolves. Rukawa looks almost embarrassed. Much more vulnerable.

But Rukawa doesn't much have time to feel self-conscious because Mitsui is sitting up on his knees, gripping Rukawa's ankles in his hands and forcing them open wide. Rukawa's hands scrabble uselessly at the floor as Mitsui picks up his pace, thrusting up into his body, touching those tender parts inside him that weren't meant to be so easily reached. Rukawa moans, his lips slackening, seeing stars as his body is dragged back and forth against the ground, weak against Mitsui's fierce thrusts.

"Alpha," he slurs helplessly. "Alpha, alpha, please, ah-"

Mitsui lets out a groan of his own, watching Rukawa's face, feeling his knot beginning to inflate. Before he can lose himself to his own orgasm, he leans down and tilts Rukawa's chin up with one finger, so that they are lips against lips.

"You..." he gasps, "...will obey me?" he demands, his lips moving teasingly against Rukawa's mouth.

Rukawa lets out a pleasured groan. "Yes, alpha, yes..."

Mitsui pushes in to kiss him, moaning softly as he does so. Rukawa's tongue flickers out in offering and Mitsui chooses to gently suckle on it, drawing it out further from Rukawa's mouth, causing Rukawa to roll his eyes in pleasure.

Mitsui smiles and tenderly releases his tongue.

"Then, omega," he instructs him, his voice lowering to a gruff command. "...let me see you _come_."

Every muscle in Rukawa's body grips Mitsui in an iron grasp as Rukawa squeezes his eyes closed and screams through his orgasm, forcing himself down further onto Mitsui's cock. As he comes through the ring, spurting transparent omega cum across his chest, Mitsui forces Rukawa's chin further up to expose his throat, bares his teeth, and then bites down hard on his omega's neck. Sealing the bond between them.

_Mine,_ he growls through his teeth as his knot inflates to match Rukawa's violent orgasm. _Mine._

* * *

Sendoh Akira drops all the basketballs in astonishment. They roll in every direction across the Shohoku sports hall. He points his finger at Rukawa Kaede and his jaw hangs open.

"What?!" he demands loudly. "WHAT?"

Rukawa is highly embarrassed and looks the other way. He is still not used to wearing a skirt to school. But his mate insists on it... so he does as he is told. Mitsui only allows him to wear alpha-type clothes during training and during games. He doesn't mind it. But getting this reaction every time is becoming a little wearying.

Before he can think of something to say, Sendoh is standing close in front of him, examining him, sniffing at him, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Rukawa, you're _omega_?"

Rukawa's fingers go up to touch the prominent mating bite on his neck. "Yeah."

"Since _when_?"

"Uhm, always."

Sendoh's jaw is hanging so loose he could pick it off the floor. "I didn't know," he complains. "I never knew that, I thought - I thought -" he lifts his hand to his forehead in disbelief. "All this time I thought I was..." he closes his eyes in disbelief. "I thought you were an alpha. I thought _I_ was attracted to another alpha. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit." He opens his eyes and sees the bite on Rukawa's neck in dismay. "And you're mated now?"

"Uh huh."

Sendoh looks devastated. "Who's the lucky alpha?"

"That would be me." Mitsui appears beside Rukawa, sliding a possessive arm around his waist, and narrowing his eyes at Sendoh with obvious dislike. "If you've something to say to my mate, I suggest you speak to me first."

Sendoh bristles for a moment, but under Mitsui's intense expression he eventually relaxes and shrugs helplessly, turning his head just a little in placation. Offering a glimpse of his neck, to prove that he doesn't wish to fight. "I see how it is."

Mitsui gives a short nod.

"Mating trial?" Sendoh wants to know.

"That's right," Mitsui preens smugly.

"You could have asked me," Sendoh complains to Rukawa. "I would have joined..." he sends Mitsui a small provoking glance, "...and won."

"Yes, well," Mitsui slides his fingers up to Rukawa's jaw and gently tilts his head back to make the view of his bite mark more prominent, "Oh, look at that. Too bad. _He's mine_."

Sendoh's face darkens a little, but he turns away in defeat. As he stalks back to the rest of his teammates he can be heard muttering to himself. "Oh yeah? One fic out of twenty? What's _he_ got to be so fucking smug about? I'll show you who's _mine_. Just you wait until the next fucking fic."

-the end

* * *

SMIRK.

Happy birthday Kaede 1st Jan 2020!

Aw, come on. Leave a review, please?


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